


Paper Faces

by foil



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Badass Sokka (Avatar), Drunken Flirting, Drunkenness, F/F, Gay Zuko (Avatar), Light Angst, M/M, Sexual Harassment, Vomiting, appa is a car, chubby Sokka, fast burn??, minor classism, opposite of slow burn, rich zuko
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28774566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foil/pseuds/foil
Summary: Zuko gets much more out of his vehicle-for-hire experience than he expects, but not in the sexy way, because Sokka is a Professional and Zuko doesn't know how to use contractions.
Relationships: Azula/Suki (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 100





	Paper Faces

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Just a small piece I've been working on in my spare time and hopefully won't panic-delete. There's a short 3-4 chapter, slightly dark narrative that follows this, but I'm not 100% sure it's solid enough to post, so please let me know if you're interested in more from this silly little universe. In the meantime, I hope you have good weekends. Drink lots of water.

Around the time the beautiful bartender starts pressing cherries between Azula's glossed lips, Zuko decides he wants to go home. "Gross," he says, gathering his coat. "I am out."

"Are you okay to drive?" asks Mai. She has her pinkie locked with Ty Lee's on top of the counter, which is pretty much the Mai-PDA equivalent of draping herself over Ty Lee's lap for a spanking. They've all had way too much to drink, Zuko included. The world spins as he climbs off his barstool.

"Oh," he says, grabbing Ty Lee's shoulder for support. "No, I cannot drive." He completely loses his contractions when he's blasted.

"You should call an Appa," says the bartender.

"An apple?"

"Appa," she says, and spells it. "The APPa App? It's our town's ride-sharing service, really safe and cheap. My friends started it. I drive for them myself whenever I want to make a little extra cash."

"I do not know if that is a good idea," Zuko says, over-enunciating. "I am not—"

"Local? No shit. The four of you walked in here looking like someone rolled out the red fucking carpet. If the sports cars weren't a tip-off, the beverages were. I haven't had to break out the good champagne in years." She leans forward to clasp Zuko's hand, purposely giving Azula a great view of her cleavage. "Our drivers don't mind long trips, really. And you look like you're more than ready to climb back into your king-sized bed in the city and pass the hell out."

Bed. Just the word alone makes Zuko's eyelids droop dreamily. "Sleep," he says agreeably.

She laughs and squeezes her phone out of the pocket of her tiny denim cutoffs. It's true that Zuko and his friends look wildly out-of-place in this backwoods bar—they'd done it on purpose, wanting to escape the pressure and monotony of their usual cocktail lounges—but they aren't exactly masters of going undercover. Mai's necklace is made of genuine Akoya pearls, and Zuko himself is wearing a Givenchy blazer. Which he really doesn't want to puke on. He sips at a glass of water as the bartender places her call.

"Hey, Aang? It's Suki. Got a customer here at Kyoshi's who needs to get back to the city. He's adorably zonked." She eyes Zuko up and down. "Send Sokka," she says slyly.

"What is a Sokka?" asks Zuko.

"A Sokka is a walking snack," says Suki, which doesn't make sense, so Zuko ignores her as she chats on the phone and turns back to Azula. Azula's pretty gone too, blinking very slowly as she sips the green tea and peach julep Suki gave her to try between martinis.

"Are you going to stay here?" Zuko asks.

"Yes," says Azula. "I'm having fun." A small, sweet smile lights her face, and Zuko feels his heart swell; it's been a long, long time since he's seen his sister wear that expression. She is studying her own phone. "Seems reputable. Five stars in the app store. I can drive the Corvette back later, if you're agreeable?"

Zuko yawns and hands Azula his car key. "Behave yourself," he says.

"Don't count on it," Azula says.

Mai and Ty Lee seem content to stay, too, so he gives them all little air kisses before he uses the bathroom, washes his hands, and leaves through the back entrance. It's been a good night. Zuko smiles up at the moon as he sits on the steps near the trash cans, chin cradled in his hands, thinking about how nice it was to get away from his father for the evening and have some drinks with his friends.

He feels like he's only been sitting there for a minute or so before the most beautiful boy he has ever seen appears before him.

"Holy shit," says Zuko.

"Zuko, right? What are you doing back here?" says the boy. His brown hair is pulled into a high ponytail, and he's got an attractive undercut, revealing pretty, stud-lined ears. He leans over Zuko and studies his pupils with some apparent medical expertise, then breaks into a radiant white grin. "Oh no, you're so drunk! Here, I have some water in my car."

Zuko has yet to confirm that this is his driver, but he dazedly follows him around the front of the bar to his vehicle anyway, a white RAV4 with a brown arrow painted over the hood. If he dies by this man's hands, at least he dies happy. When Zuko stumbles a little, the guy's there immediately, easing one of his arms around his shoulders and helping him carefully into the front seat. He pops open the glove compartment to reveal a few unopened bottles of water, unscrews the top of one, and places it between Zuko's hands.

"Drink all of that," he instructs. "I'll be right back. I have to go yell at Suki real quick." He's parked close to the door, though, and Zuko hears him perfectly when he throws it open and shouts, "Suki, you incomparable bitch, you didn't warn me he was hot!"

Who's hot? Zuko looks around, confused, but before he can puzzle it out, the boy is returning to the front seat, cheeks pink.

"Sorry, I didn't introduce myself," he says. "I'm Sokka, and I'll be providing your APPa services tonight. Do you want to listen to some music, or talk, or sleep?"

"Mmm. Yes," says Zuko.

Sokka laughs. "Okay, we'll try some tunes." He turns the engine over and hits a button on his phone. A little neon arrow that says A-P-P-A lights up on the dashboard. He puts on some light, inoffensive pop music. "This okay?"

"Harder, please," Zuko says.

"Um," says Sokka, cheeks coloring beautifully. "Sorry?"

"Harder!" he repeats, and it comes out all breathy because he's tired, but that _still_ doesn't get red-faced Sokka moving, so Zuko grabs the dial of the radio himself and cranks it to his favorite rock station. Colorful guitar crashes out of the speakers. Zuko headbangs a little and stops when the world starts swirling around in wild circles. "Hard," he explains, rubbing his temples.

"Oh! I getcha now!" Sokka yells over the music, laughing. "Hard rock! Yeaaah!" 

Zuko lets his head loll back against the seat and treats Sokka to the most sincere smile he can manage. It must not be a very good one, because Sokka looks away fast, ears flushed, and busies himself with programming his GPS.

"So," says Zuko, once they're on the highway. "You might think I am stupid."

Sokka blinks. "I don't think that at all! Why do you say that?"

"I got into your car without personally verifying the authenticity of your ride-share service. The truth is, I am a nationally-ranked fencer, so I am anything but defenseless."

"You don't have a weapon," Sokka points out.

Zuko reaches into his pocket and retrieves the tiny plastic cocktail sword that speared the pineapple chunks in his last beverage, gripping it threateningly between two fingers. Sokka laughs heartily, and Zuko smiles. He has never been accused of having a good sense of humor, but he really wants to impress Sokka. He puts the sword away and tries to swipe his hair sexily out of his face, poking himself in the eye with his thumb. "Ow."

"Careful! No sudden movements until you're sober, okay?"

Zuko sniffles, feeling chastised. Sokka sees that he's tearing up and quickly pats him on the shoulder. "You're far from home. What brings you to Southern Bumblefuck?"

That's a hard question to answer. Zuko stares at his hands. "My father held a masquerade ball tonight to raise money for charity," he says slowly. "My sister, friends, and I were going to attend, but the masks just felt—redundant somehow. Like we were already wearing them? So Ty Lee goes, 'I want beer from a can,' and that sounded good to everyone else, so we took off our costumes and started driving and. Well. Ended up where we ended up."

Sokka listens, nods along. His eyes are soft and understanding. "Well, I can't relate to wanting to bail on something as badass as a masquerade ball, but sometimes you just gotta go where people don't know you, yeah? Meet some new folks?"

"Yes," says Zuko. "And now I have met you, Sokka."

"Yep," Sokka agrees, beaming. "Now you've met me!"

Zuko smiles at him. He really is the most fantastic-looking person Zuko has ever met, hair clean and coffee-colored, stomach prettily curved with fat. Zuko knows he himself is sharply dressed, but that doesn't mean Sokka digs the scar or the awkwardness or the weird emotionality. He tries to make polite conversation: "If you could be any microorganism, what would you be?"

"Oh, algae, no question," says Sokka.

"I would be viral conjunctivitis," says Zuko. "Do you like doors?"

"I do! Big fan. Zuko, how about I take a turn starting the discussions now?"

"Okay," says Zuko.

"Okay. So you fence, huh?"

"Father insisted I learn a combat sport as a child. I am very good at it." Zuko hopes he doesn't sound arrogant, but there's no arguing that he is pretty damn proficient with a sabre. It's kind of what he does, aside from making an ass of himself in front of stunning young men at backcountry bars. "Do you sport?"

"I sport! Soccer and softball, and I'll demolish you at chess."

Zuko can't help the way his eyes narrow in challenge. "Will you? My uncle taught me well."

"Oh ho, a contender! No one has taken me on since the Zugzwang Fistfighting Incident. We'll have to exchange numbers and meet up sometime when you're feeling a little less—"

"Spinny."

"Besotted, yes." Sokka treats him to a teasing smile before turning back to the road, making Zuko's heart thump wildly in his chest. He wonders what kind of face he's making. He feels pretty numb and intrigued and enamored.

"I would really like to be friends with you after tonight," says Zuko frankly.

Sokka blinks, honestly surprised. "Me?" he says. "Why?"

Now Zuko is surprised. "Why would I not?" Sokka seems conscientious. Receptive. Brilliant. Beautiful. Zuko focuses very hard, and what comes out of his mouth is slightly less articulate: "You are caring and nice and smart and hot! So hot. Like woo! Hot." Another swell of emotion grips him. "But I understand if you do not want to befriend me because I am ugly and mean."

"You're neither of those things!" says Sokka, shocked. "Objectively, you're pretty 'woo! Hot' yourself." His voice is affectionate. "And very, very sweet. I just don't want to take advantage of you. I'm a professional driver for Aang's APPa Service, and I need to make sure I don't do anything untoward. How about you just relax for now, and if you're still feeling like a chess match tomorrow, call through the app and ask for me. _Not_ Katara; that's my sister, and she'll kill me! Ask for Sokka."

"Sokka," Zuko repeats softly.

"Zuko," Sokka returns, warm and fond.

Zuko nods off and on after that. The rock keeps waking him up, and he hums to the music a bit each time before smiling at Sokka and lulling himself back to sleep. Sokka touches him just once, to bring the bottle of water to his mouth. Zuko drinks obediently and settles back against the seat, letting the drive pass by in bright blurs as they reach the city limits.

These days, he lives alone in an apartment complex by Ember Park. It's modest enough to appall his father— _trashy_ , he calls it; _impoverished_ —but Zuko likes living close to Uncle, Lu Ten, and the Jasmine Dragon, even though he has some rowdy neighbors.

Sokka is pulling up in the visitor's lot when Zuko blinks awake, feeling dizzy and carsick. He opens the door and leans out, swallowing repeatedly to combat the gross watering in his mouth. He knows definitively that he is going to vomit when he says, "You're the most gorgeous person I've ever met," and realizes he's past the No Contractions phase of drunkenness and into the _time to puke up words_ and _beer_ stage. He doesn't get here often, but when he does, it's not pretty. He turns away from Sokka as he retches.

"Aw, no," says Sokka, with heartfelt sympathy and no disgust. He's there in an instant, stroking Zuko's sweaty hair out of his face. "I got you. Try to breathe."

"You don't deserve this," Zuko groans.

"It comes with the territory."

"I t-took f-f-four of those on-fire shots, you know? The—"

"The Double-Headed Dragons? Oh yeah, I know those well. They're Suki's speciality. Oh man, once I pounded like three beers and then took a Flaming Blue Ghost and spewed all over the pinball m—oh, sorry. That's very good, Zuko. Get it out; get it all out."

Thankfully, Zuko's just about done with that last big heave. He leans over, eyes leaking, and gratefully accepts the brown paper fast food napkins and bottle of water that Sokka offers him. He wipes his face and mouth, sips some water, spits it back out. His cheeks burn with humiliation. This would be awful even if Sokka weren't a fucking deity, but with him crouching close, his blue eyes big and concerned, smelling so damn good—

"I'm so, so sorry," Zuko says.

"Please don't worry, seriously. And ten thousand points for making it _outside_ of the vehicle. Not everyone does."

"Ugh." Zuko continues barfing, this time with backstory: "If I had gone to the fucking masquerade ball, I would've gotten this drunk too, just to spite my father. He has never appreciated anything I've done for him. Not my fencing, not my chess, not the piano or my work with Uncle or the tea shop or dating Mai for 'appearances—'" he struggles to make finger-quotes, fails, and ends up flipping Sokka off. "Sorry."

"That sounds like a lot of pressure," says Sokka gently.

"Nothing you need to hear about. Hey, take this." He pries his wallet out of his pocket and tries to pass Sokka an extra fifty, which Sokka pushes back, insistent.

"No, no. That's okay, Zuko. Get yourself to bed safely and we'll call it even."

"I'm gonna leave a billion-star rating on your app."

"We could always use more reviews! Here, c'mon. Lemme help you."

Groaning, Zuko lets Sokka help him to his feet and step behind him, delicately supporting him at the waist as he makes his way toward his apartment. It's on the second floor, and he stumbles twice going up the steps; would've eaten shit completely if it weren't for Sokka's assistance. When they reach his front door, Zuko says, "This is where I wish I could've kissed you, but vomit-mouth and consent and professionality and yes."

"Those are good reasons not to kiss," says Sokka wisely. "But do call me up for that game, okay?"

"I'll do that. Bye, Sokka. I lo—I—I love—charcuterie," Zuko says, trying to smooth over his slip-up.

"I love charcuterie, too. Goodnight."

Zuko smiles. "Goodnight."

He stands there for a long time, fumbling to unlock his door, then lets himself into his apartment and immediately goes for the mouthwash in his bathroom. Despite his mortification, he feels about a billion times better. He stares at himself in the mirror, tilting his head back and forth. He's got a bit of stubble coming in, and his scar looks more vivid because his cheeks are red too, but maybe he could one day be someone a person like Sokka could love. Zuko splashes water on his face and nods decisively.

Tonight was a good night.

He changes into his pajamas, texts Azula, and goes to close his blinds.

Freezes.

Sokka is still standing by his car, flanked by two large men.

His body language is tight, defensive. As Zuko watches, one of the guys leans in and places an arm against the car by Sokka's head, boxing him in. Sokka raises both hands in a placating gesture, smiling tensely. He mouths something that Zuko can't quite make out, but it looks a little bit like, "No thanks."

Before Zuko even knows it, his feet are moving, steady and calm and intent. He grabs the sabre from beside his bed and begins walking downstairs.

"—gotta get home now," Sokka is saying, "but I'm flattered, really!"

"Not flattered enough," the bigger man teases, reaching to tweak the hem of Sokka's shirt. "Come on. Just have one or two drinks with us."

Sokka chuckles weakly. "I'm on the clock."

"Your boss doesn't have to know."

Zuko's socked feet are quiet on the sidewalk as he flicks his sabre outward on his way to the car. Nobody's looking at him yet; the men are fixated on Sokka, and Sokka is staring nervously up at the taller one—

—who is suddenly leaning in, fast and aggressive, aiming for Sokka's mouth—

Zuko launches into a run.

At the same time, Sokka sweeps one leg out and knocks the bastard flat on his ass.

He falls heavily, grunting. His palms crunch in the gravel of the parking lot. "You little bitch," he sputters, beginning to scramble upright, but his friend is closer and faster and he reaches out to grab Sokka by the nape of his neck.

Sokka's face twists with anger. He knees the man hard between the legs, ducking easily out of his grasp as he falls. The other asshole is on his feet again, and Sokka waits to see if he'll engage. He does: he seizes a handful of Sokka's collar, dragging him close. Sokka breaks the hold by swiping both forearms upward and out, then kicks him hard in the shin, knocking him back to the ground. When he tries to drag Sokka down with him, Sokka steps on his shoulder. Forces him to kneel.

"Dick," says Sokka, grinding with his heel, and kicks him backward.

He thumps into the dust and scrabbles back on his hands, fetching up against Zuko's legs. He does a double-take.

"There's two of them!" he yelps, and then he and his friend are thrashing up and away, back around the corner of the apartment complex and toward the street. Sokka doesn't bother staring after them: he's looking at Zuko now with wide, startled eyes.

"Zuko? I thought you were in bed!"

"And I thought you were in trouble!" Zuko replies, with a small laugh. "Holy shit. Sokka?"

Sokka shifts uncomfortably, and tries to stabilize his shaky, adrenaline-riddled respiration. "I know, 'violence begets violence,'" he says, seemingly quoting someone, because his voice rises to a higher, peaceable register, "but they were being thugs, and I took a self-defense course with Katara last fall, and—"

"That was unbelievably hot," says Zuko.

Sokka's cheeks glow red. "Well, thanks," he says, with a neat little curtsey. Then he spots Zuko's sabre and bursts out laughing. "Oh my god, were you really going to stab them?"

"I—I don't know! I saw them trying to intimidate you and I just—"

"Zuko, my knight in vomit-scented armor," says Sokka, voice tender, and steps up beside Zuko to kiss him delicately on one cheek. Zuko practically implodes, losing feeling in both legs and wobbling down to the pavement like Jell-O. Sokka laughs, catching his elbow. "C'mon, let's get you back in bed for realsies."

"Will you join me?" asks Zuko. "Just to sleep, I mean?"

"You have not stopped being drunk, so that's still a 'no,' but now I'm doubly hopeful you'll give me a call tomorrow."

"I will," Zuko promises.

"Then I'll look forward to it."

Sokka helps him to his front door for the second time that evening, and though Zuko doesn't try to kiss or hug him, he does hold onto his fingers a little too long for Sokka to misconstrue as a regular handshake. When Sokka smiles shyly at him, Zuko says what's in his heart: "I think you're phenomenal," he whispers. 

It carries tremendous weight after their evening of yelling over hard rock and exclaiming over each other in parking lots. Sokka's breath halts, then starts again, a little faster.

Then Zuko ruins it. "Buddy," he adds.

Sokka breaks into a huge, slow grin. "Right back at you," he says. "Pal."

This time Zuko purposely watches Sokka return to his vehicle from his bedroom window. The men don't come back, and Sokka moves with a grace and alertness so obvious that Zuko wonders why he didn't notice he was trained in self-defense before. He climbs into the car and touches his phone. The blue neon APPA arrow on the dashboard goes dim. Sokka sits there for a moment longer, and Zuko can just make out a small smile on his face. Then he turns on the engine and headlights and drives carefully out of the lot.

Zuko tucks his sabre back into place and throws himself face first onto his bed. "Buddy," he repeats, with horror and regret. Then he pulls his phone out to open the APPa App. Azula has sent him a message:

 **Azula** : I think I met an angel tonight.

 **Zuko** : Same tho

*

 **Zuko S. - 1 Review -** April 5, 2017 - 3:04 am  
"I had Sokka (sp??) tonight" - ★★★★★  
HELLO Zuko here. GREAT ex[erience with APPa tonight!!! Driver Soka let me listne to my favoirte music and ask me about my hobbies; did nto agree when I said I was 'Ugly and mean"!!! Felt safe. Did not sleep with me. Pat my back as I throw up THEN Kicked serious ass in praking lot after ride!!! Give Sokka a raise. WILL CALL TOMORROW IF NOT SICK - goodbye!!!

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](https://foyal.tumblr.com/)!


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